


Duty Bound

by FrostWolfGirl



Series: An Observance of Mischief [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Torchwood
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Loki typical neck snapping, Loki x Rose, Roski, Slow Burn, Whovengers, frostwolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2020-08-10 06:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostWolfGirl/pseuds/FrostWolfGirl
Summary: After the battle of New York, Loki is forced to make a choice: his pride or his freedom. But when the Convergence begins, he's powerless to stop it, forcing him to rely on the one person he's both annoyed by and drawn toward - Rose Tyler.





	1. Vigils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work un-beta'd.
> 
> This work is the sequel to Vigils. Please stop and read that before continuing. 
> 
> To those that have followed me from Vigils: Thank you so much! I hope you continue to enjoy this story.

She always knows when he comes in to watch her sleep. The tension in the room shifts just enough to rouse her, but she never stirs. He never touches her, nor does he ever say he has come in the morning. It’s a silent game of ‘don’t blink.’

It started months ago, though she can’t remember the exact circumstances. He would come and stand at the doorframe, his shoulder resting against it as if it had been put there to keep him in place. Before long it wasn’t a doorframe, it was a Loki frame. Its entire purpose had been and always would be to hold him there, framed perfectly in the moonlight that cascaded in behind him, throwing his form into an elegant silhouette.

She admires him through hooded eyes; never open quite enough for him to notice.

Night after night, it’s become so that she could tell the time by his coming and going. How did they get here? She can look back on the path, but there’s plenty of forks that could have led them somewhere else.

She opens her mouth to speak…

***

Six Months Ago

***

He’s standing in an empty cell. It’s solid white with two open walls that give him no illusion of privacy. He’s been stripped of his armor, down to nothing but a tunic and soft sandals. No draw string on his trousers, no laces on his tunic, nothing he could use to hurt himself. He’s been placed on suicide watch.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Loki, the God of Mischief, is a prisoner in what used to be his home.

_You brought this on yourself._ It’s that sickening voice in his head, the one that began speaking the moment Thanos found him and hasn’t stopped talking since. Somedays it was louder than others.

“Shut up,” he hisses at himself, his silken accent sliding through his teeth like a snake.

Where it usually talked back, this time it remains quiet. He inhales sharply, his head turning just slightly to the left. He heard something, the hair on the back of his neck stands up. He’s no longer alone, or at least as alone as a caged animal could be. “Come here to mock?” he asks darkly.

“Not really,” comes a voice he’s both annoyed to hear and oddly comforted by. “But if you insist, I’m sure I can think of something funny.”

Loki rolls his eyes and turns to see her, Rose Tyler, standing on the ledge just by the golden barrier meant to keep him inside and her outside. She’s picking at her nails casually, as if she’s been there the whole time. Maybe she has? It wouldn’t be the first time she’s snuck up on him. She’s yellow and pink and beautiful and also irritating. He both wants to push her out and beg for her to come in. It’s a strange feeling wanting more and less of a person at the same time.

He’s enthralled with her, with the power that’s in her veins and the entity in her mind that she can control or that controls her depending on the circumstances.

“Well?” he challenges, leaning forward. He bares his teeth as if he’s growling at her.

“Hmm?” she asks casually looking up at him. “Oh! Right, course. You’re wonderin’ if I had a good meeting with the old man upstairs.” She pushes herself off the wall and takes a few steps over along the golden barrier. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve worked out an arrangement with him that’ll get you out of this dungeon. However, there’s a catch…”

_Don’t trust her!_

“Of course, there is,” he sneers.

Rose shrugs a little, a lock of golden curls falls over her shoulder and rains down to her hips. “It’s the best I could do,” she says. “But if you agree to the terms and conditions, you’ll be a free man…”

_Freedom is a mockery! There is no true freedom. She’ll make you a puppet. She’ll try to tame you. You cannot be tamed. Don’t listen to her!!_

“What terms?”

***

At first, he refuses. It’s already a hard-enough pill to swallow that he’ll be trapped in a 12 x 20 cell for the next 3,000 years, but at least he’s himself… to the best of his ability to be so. But the terms and conditions of his release would leave him vulnerable. The voice in his head was right. It would make him her puppet. Rose left him to think it over, but he was adamant that he’d never agree to such a ludicrous arrangement.

In order to be free, he would return to Midgard with her. He would release his claim to the throne of any kingdom and his power… the very essence of himself, would be locked away, pulled from him and never restored. He would be exiled to Midgard as his brother had been. Though there was no chance of his powers ever being restored.

He would be, for all intents and purposes, mortal. Ordinary. Useless. Forgotten.

Disgusted, he sends Rose away from him, screaming at her until she’s removed from the dungeon by the guards. Exhausted and angry, Loki flops to the floor and stares blankly out at the world mutely. He doesn’t eat for three days. When his mother sends furnishings and garments he tries to escape, only to end up beaten to the floor. He refuses to heal himself; he doesn’t accept any meals or visitors. He’s just hoping that eventually he’ll die.

After two weeks, Frigga comes to his cell. She’s taking a great risk, knowing Odin’s wrath at her visitation will send him into a rage, but she can’t stay away any longer. When she comes around the corner, she sees her son on his back on the bed. He’s got one arm behind his head, the other is at his side. To the casual eye he looks calm, but to Frigga she can see his heart in turmoil.

“Loki…” she says, holding her hands in front of her body.

“Hello mother,” he says casually. “Come to visit the zoo?”

“Loki, that’s an unfair jab,” she scolds softly. It’s more pained than it is harsh.

He sits up suddenly, glaring at her like he’s a wild animal. “That’s what this is, isn’t it?” he challenges. “I’m on display. Shall I do a trick?” He stands, slowly crosses the cell and changes form from his Asir body to that of his Jotun form, his skin turns blue, his eyes blood red. It’s like a wave of frost washes down his body. “Look at your _freak, _mother.”

“Loki, stop!” she snaps.

He comes to a halt just two feet from the golden forcefield. He says nothing, but his eyes are burning and his mouth is pressed into a thin line of frustration.

“I’ve come to talk some sense into you,” Frigga says finally, gentle in her approach.

“Sense?” he snaps. “Sense?! You’ve come to banish me! Admit it mother, it pains you to see me in this place. It will be easier on your gentle heart if I were to leave. You wouldn’t have to feel the guilt of knowing your son is _rotting_ in the dungeon!”

“And do you not want to be free?” she asks simply.

“Free?” he takes one step forward. “Freedom is life’s greatest lie.”

Frigga steps up onto the small ledge that lined his cell and then walks through the golden barrier. Loki stumbles back a pace, his Jotun form melting away as quickly as it arrived. He feels suddenly violated, but he can’t explain why. She’d not asked for permission, she just came in. It’s something _he_ used to do. A way of showing who was really in charge.

“_Get out!”_ he hisses.

“You first,” Frigga challenges.


	2. A New Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work un-beta'd.
> 
> I didn't forget. I didn't give up. I just needed some time!

Rose has been home for two weeks, give or take. Oddly enough, now that the Avengers have neutralized the enemy, it’s back to business as usual. Well, sort of. The media does love to repeat stories and sensationalize them. Thankfully she has managed to stay off their radar. The news outlets are focusing on Loki and Thor, with sprinklings of Captain America and the other Avengers.

Tony’s called her twice since the events concluded. The first one to make sure she was okay. The second to make sure _he_ was okay. She’s agreed to see him the following weekend. There’s something in his voice that makes her think he’s not alright anymore. He’s never exactly been okay, but there’s something new in his voice that has her worried.

Tonight, she’s sitting on her sofa. It’s Tuesday, she’s ordered Chinese take out and she’s currently watching Jeopardy. Jamie used to love this show. He enjoyed knowing all the answers. Now it’s a chance for her to know all the answers. After the bonding she took on nine hundred years of knowledge and memories. Some pop cultural events now have memories in her mind that aren’t even her own, but she might as well have been there.

The power blips off for a second as a flash of lighting strikes outside, thunder following so soon after she jumps a little. A second later the power flashes back on as if nothing happened at all.

“O…kay….” She mutters to herself. She didn’t think they’d called for storms that night.

A few more moments pass before there’s a knock on her door. She quirks her brow and looks at it, slurping a string of low mien noodles into her mouth. With a heavy sigh she heaves herself off the sofa and pads over to the door. She’s in her jim-jams; a pair of shorts and a tank top, no shoes or socks. It’s far too late to put on a bra and anyone coming to her door shouldn’t expect her to be well put together. Her long golden curls pulled back into a messy bun at the base of her neck. She looks horribly ordinary.

She stands on her toes and looks through the peep hole then sighs heavily at the sight on the other side of the door. Sinking to her heels again and opens the door with an unamused look written all over her face.

“Thor, it’s eleven o’clock,” she deadpans.

“Aye, good evening Lady Rose,” he grins.

“What d’you want?”

“Well…” Thor rubs the back of his neck and for his answer he turns to look over his shoulder. There, in plain clothes and handcuffs, stands Loki. His green-blue eyes glance up at her, a hint of _this is so humiliating, please end my suffering_ is written all over his face.

“Ah,” Rose says. Her following response to this is non-verbal. She turns on her heels and walks inside, leaving the door open behind her in silent invitation.

Thor looks wholly out of place in a suburban setting. He steps in rather uncomfortably and looks around, pausing for a moment at the coat and shoe rack just inside the door. He places his hammer on the bench by the coat rack and puts his hand around the base of Loki’s neck, driving him inside.

“Really, brother, is this quite necessary?” Loki half growls, but there’s a tone of resignation in his voice that Rose can hear. By the time the Loki is able to wrestle himself free of Thor’s grasp they’ve all entered into Rose’s living room. She’s back on the sofa, her knees pulled up to her chest while she snacks on her food.

“You know well that it is, brother,” Thor responds to Loki’s question. “You’re not to be trusted.”

“I agreed to the terms and conditions, did I not?” Loki huffs.

“One agreement does not wipe away your misdeeds,” Thor responds.

“Boys!” Rose calls over the din. The two demigods turn to her in tandem, one with a look of annoyance, the other with a look of surprise. “D’ya mind? Commercials ended.” She nods at her television and continues watching.   
  
Thor and Loki take a moment to regard the human. Loki looks annoyed, but Thor likes her. She reminds him of Jane and so he’ll humor her for a moment. He tosses his cape to the left and sits on the sofa next to Rose in his full kit of armor. Loki stares at him incredulous for a moment, lips parted in a silent sigh of exasperation. It’s when Thor gestures to the armchair next to the sofa that Loki finally sits with an exaggerated eye roll.   
  
For a moment, no one speaks. Rose continues to snack on her noodles, answering literally every trivia question correctly.

“Lady Rose,” Thor begins after a few moments. “We are on borrowed time.”

“Is the world ending Thor Odinson?” she asks without turning to him.

“Well, no…” Thor answers.

“Then you can give me ten more minutes to watch this show,” she says, without looking at Thor. “Let me remind you that you’re in my house bothering me at night and I have to work in the morning.”

Thor folds his hands in his lap and is quiet. At the commercial break, she pauses the show, puts the box of noodles down on her coffee table and turns to look at Thor for the first time since she sat down. She studies him for a moment, then glances over at Loki. Thor is in his full armor, she notices, but Loki is still in his tunic from the dungeon. He was at least given the decency of an over coat.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” she asks with a smile. She offers it to Loki before looking back at Thor. She knows why they’re here and she’s honestly surprised. She hadn’t expected Loki to ever take her up on the offer.

Thor clears his throat and shifts his weight. Rose thinks he looks ridiculous in his armor on her sofa, but she doesn’t say it. She’ll giggle about it later. “Lady Rose, I come to you this evening with an offer.”

“Loki said yes, didn’t he?” she asks, looking back at Loki. Loki isn’t looking at her. He’s crossed his arms over his chest. She sees his jaw clench in annoyance, his eyes steely and cold, glaring at a spot on the wall.

“Loki has accepted your offer, indeed,” Thor replies.

“I am still in the room,” Loki sneers, refusing to look at them.

“He’s right,” Rose says to Thor, then to Loki she continues. “I’m sorry, Loki. I can’t imagine how difficult it was for you to agree to all this. But, if it’s any consolation, I think you did the right thing.”

“Your _opinion_ is of very little consequence to me,” Loki snaps, turning to her with a snarl. “_Lady Rose.”_

“Blimey, Thor, did ya even feed the man before you brought him here?” she asks, totally unphased by Loki’s reaction. “I’ve seen him hungry and he’s always extra disagreeable when he’s skipped a meal.”

“Do not trivialize my emotions, woman!” Loki growls. “I did not agree to this to be a mockery to a mortal!”

“Easy, Loki,” Rose says gently, holding her hands up. She moves slowly, picking up a box of fried rice she hasn’t opened yet and a pair of chopsticks, then slowly crosses the room and offers the meal to him. He glares at her, but their eyes are locked, and she sees him inhale deeply through his parted lips, pupils flaring. She kneels in front of him, still holding out the box of rice.

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” she says gently. “Go on, love. You need to eat. You’re too thin and it worries me. Please.”

For a moment she thinks she sees him soften. His shoulders relax just a hint. He stays still, she thinks he’s pondering what to do. His green-blue eyes flicker from the food to her and back again before he finally accepts the box. As he takes the offering, his fingers brush hers and there’s a spark neither one of them can deny. She hears him inhale at the contact and he freezes. But then before she can see past his mask, he draws away.

“Thor, why don’t we talk outside,” Rose suggests before standing. She turns to Thor and the blonde nods. “I’ll be right back, Loki. Help yourself to the food.” With that, she retreats to her front garden, an Asgardian God in tow.

Once they’re outside, she closes the door softly behind her. “Honestly, when is the last time he’s eaten?” she asks him. “He’s practically a ghost.”

“Lady Rose, he was given every accommodation in his cell,” Thor says. “But he refused to eat. The man you see in there has made his choices.”

“Choice my arse!” she hisses. “He’s broken! He’s touch-starved! He’s….” Just like the Doctor was when they first met. She’s seen that look in a man’s eye before. Haunted. Haunted by choices he couldn’t possibly comprehend.

“Lady Rose!” Thor interrupts. “Have care how you speak! He is my brother.”

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and calms herself. “He’s given up his magic, then?”

“Aye,” Thor says quietly.

Rose swallows, tears springing to her eyes but she can’t explain why. “All of it?” she asks.

“All of it,” Thor nods sadly.

“I feel like I’ve clipped the wings of an exotic bird,” she says, sitting on the front step. Her knees just simply give up, her stomach turns, she feels like she’s done something terrible. “I know he had to agree to it, Thor but…. I feel sick.”

Thor sighs and sits next to her, his armor clacking against the cement. “I understand how you feel, Lady Rose. But Loki knew well what the price would be should he choose to come here. He is your ward now, under your care. He is… mostly harmless now. A twisted mind in the body of an Asgardian. His strength, his anatomy, that has been unaltered. He can still kill you.”

“He won’t,” she shakes her head. “He’s lost, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be found.” She looks at Thor and takes his large hand in her own. “He’s not as far away as you think, Thor. For him to accept this, for him to come this far, there’s a heart in him still.”

“Do you really believe you can save him, Lady Rose?” Thor asks, his eyes welling up with tears.

“There’s nothing to save, Thor,” she shakes her head. “He just needs time to heal.” 


	3. Life's Greatest Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work un-beta'd.
> 
> Yeah, that's right. 
> 
> You guys waited so long that I'm rewarding you with two chapters back to back. 
> 
> Those of you feeling sorry for Loki, may now continue to feel sorry for him. Here's some much needed angst!

When Rose returns to her living room, Loki is still in chains. Thor has given her the key and left without a word. She pads up to Loki’s side just as the Bifrost opens from outside. The rainbow of colors lights up the room for half a second and then vanishes. Loki hasn’t moved except to place the box of rice she’d offered him on a small table next to the chair. He’s just sitting there, staring at that spot on the wall.

She swallows and steps up to him, kneeling at his side. Later, when she has time to replay this moment in her mind, she’ll think she moved too quickly, but in the moment the only thing she can think about it to get Loki out of his chains. She reaches to his wrist, but Loki moves faster, snapping and grabbing her wrist instead with his free hand.

“Do not touch me!” he snarls

“Key,” she whispers, showing him the small copper object in her hand. “I have the key.”

Loki growls, his lips curling upward.

“Please,” Rose whispers. “I won’t hurt you.”

He shakes her hard enough for a few strands of her golden hair to tumble out of her bun. “Never without my permission,” he says. “I am not your _ward_, Rose Tyler. I am no puppet, nor lap dog. I will _not_ take your orders!”

She nods. “I know,” she agrees. “I promise. Please, Loki. Let me free you.”

“Freedom!” he scoffs. “Is life’s greatest lie.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Loki?” she asks softly. They lock eyes for a moment and she can see it once more: that haunted look of a man that’s seen too much. “Have I ever lied to you? Think, Loki. I know I’m a pain in the arse, I know I’m rash and obnoxious and my accent isn’t nice t’listen to, but think, love. Have I ever lied to you?”

He breathes a few times, his grip on her wrist loosens a little while he studies her. There’s a moment where she’s sure he’s going to break her wrist, based on the wild look in his eyes, but he’s still. “Don’t call me ‘love’,” he says, his voice a bit lower almost soft.

“Okay, Loki,” she replies. “Please let go of my wrist now. You remember how easy I bruise, right?”

His head turns to her wrist and recognition lights up his eyes at the memory of holding her wrist on the plane. It was when they first met. He lets go of her instantly and without him holding her she falls back on the floor like a sack of laundry. Her wrist is already starting to turn purple. Loki’s frozen, staring at the damage to her wrist.

He closes his eyes, exhaling through parted lips. She takes a moment and when she thinks he’s calm enough she moves in slowly, sliding the key into the keyhole and with a gentle click the cuff falls away from his wrist. The click brings Loki back to the present. His eyes snap open and he looks down at the cuff around his wrist that is unlocked. When Rose moves to his other wrist, she’s slower, more gentle. This time Loki doesn’t move and lets her uncuff his other hand. Once he’s free she realizes she’s exceptionally close, his nose is practically in her hair. She turns her head slowly and his eyes are closed once more, but the look on his face is pained. It takes everything in her not to touch him. She takes the cuffs and draws away, finally standing up and backing away to give him space.

“Would you like a fork?” she asks, her voice soft. When Loki opens his eyes again, he looks as if he’s regained some of his control.

“A what?” he asks, as if he hasn’t quite heard her.

“A fork,” she repeats. “For the rice.”

“The rice,” he says, turning his attention to the box of food he’d left behind before their altercation. “I am not hungry.”

“I’ll get you a fork anyway,” she says, turning to the kitchen. She thinks she can feel Loki’s eyes on her as she retreats from the room, but she doesn’t look back. She brings her bruised wrist up for inspection. In the kitchen she runs it under some cold water to help bring down the swelling.

Upon returning to the living room she’s wrapped her wrist in a cold compress and hands him a fork and a glass of water. She doesn’t say anything more and moves to sit on the sofa. She draws her feet to her chest, wraps herself in a light blanket and in the awkward silence, allows the second half of jeopardy to play. She doesn’t answer any of the questions aloud, but she knows all of them. It’s halfway through Double Jeopardy when she hears Loki open his box of rice and start eating. She smiles softly but doesn’t say anything until the show ends.

“I have a room for you,” she says gently without really looking at him. When she does look at him, he’s already looking at her. There isn’t as much rage in his eyes, but he looks a bit caged. “It’s down the hall, c’mon. Let me show you.”

She’s surprised when he follows her. Her flat is quaint. Upon entrance, the living room is to the right, with one long hallway that goes straight down the center of the flat. On the right is the first guest room, which is Loki’s room. The kitchen is only separated from the living room by a breakfast bar. Across from the kitchen and the next door down from Loki’s room is the bathroom. Her bedroom is the last room in the flat. There’s a sliding glass door that opens into a back garden and a small master bathroom in her room.

She opens the door to Loki’s room and steps back so he can go in on his own. His room is small, but not closed. There’s already a bed in there against the wall, a window over the bed that would give him a view of the courtyard next door. Along the wall is a desk and there’s a closet at the foot of the bed. The closet door is closed.

Loki steps into his room and sweeps his gaze over it. She wonders what he’s thinking in the moment and wishes she could read his mind just this once. She can’t imagine what it must be like. He looks a lot like Jamie once did when he realized he could no longer travel the stars. But Loki isn’t like Jamie or the Doctor. He’s wilder, more dangerous and less predictable. He’s a caged tiger, pacing.

He pauses, then sinks onto the mattress. “This is acceptable,” he says, eyes cast to the floor.

“Loki,” she says from the doorway. “I’m just down the hall. If you need anything…”

“Thank you,” he cuts her off and she’s shocked by that. He glances up at her, his head still downturned, but his eyes looking up at her. His hair is wild, unkempt; eyes are sunken in hollow cheeks. He looks like a shell. It sends a pang through her heart. He was so majestic in his madness and he’s reduced to… to this. But she was offering a life where he was given a sentence. Here, maybe, he can find peace. And these are the first kind words he’s ever offered her.

“You’re welcome, Loki,” she whispers. “There’s fresh towels in the bathroom. Plenty of soap, shampoo. Even an extra toothbrush.”

“You knew I would come?” he asks.

“No,” she shakes her head. “But I hoped you might. So, I made room for you as best I could. If… if this is too cramped… I have another place we can go. But, for tonight, this is where we sleep. Tomorrow, we can talk about the future.”

“Yes, tomorrow,” Loki murmurs, folding his hands between his knees.

Rose pauses for a moment longer, before turning. She gets one foot out the door when she hears his voice once more.

“Rose,” he says. Something in the way he says her name, her heart skips a beat. She gulps and turns to him.

“Yes, Loki?” she asks.

Now he’s fully turned his head up to look at her. “Why?” he asks, his eyes wide and thirsty for an answer

It’s such a loaded question she can’t begin to answer it. Why did she offer this? Why was she hoping for it? Even she’s not sure. Of course, he reminds her of Jamie, but it’s more than that. It’s… how he looks at her and how it makes her feel, too. She wasn’t looking for someone to love or someone to love her in return. She was just looking for a connection. The very moment they made eye contact they had a connection. She offers him a watery smile. “Ask me again tomorrow. Goodnight, Loki,” she whispers, patting the doorframe. She steps out and pulls the door closed behind her, closing it gently.

On the opposite side she lingers, her hand on the wooden door and when she can finally breathe again, she retreats to her bedroom. She doesn’t close the door.

***

His heart is racing when he asks that question. He can’t begin to fathom the madness she must possess to even consider this an option, let alone _hope_ for it. That’s what she’d said… _I hoped you might._

He can still feel her outside the door. Without her there, the air feels less thick. He’s about to go after her when he hears her footfalls retreating down the hall. When he doesn’t hear her door close, he wonders if she’s tricking him. He waits for five minutes before standing up again. He crosses the expanse between his bed and the door, opening it a little and peaking out down the hall. The flat is dark except for a small, dim light in the kitchen. Through her opened door he can see just the edge of the foot of her bed silhouetted by the moonlight that’s muted behind soft curtains.

_How the mighty have fallen,_ the voice in his head sneers. Loki’s eyes close tight at the sound. _She will end up using you!_

“Shut up,” he hisses under his breath. He screws his eyes shut, inhaling sharply at it. It’s not the first time it’s whispered at him since he came to this place. It had been telling him to kill her the moment she put her hands on him. It took everything in him to silence it. This time it was much easier. The voice retreats—for now. It will be back, it always is. He can’t shake it. It’s what’s left of the mind stone.

When he opens his eyes, he’s still in Rose’s flat. He’s in the long hallway that leads down to her room. Before he can stop himself, his feet carry him to her room. He doesn’t even know why he’s going there, but he can’t stop the momentum once it’s begun. The second he gets to her doorframe he freezes, suddenly feeling like he can breathe again.

It’s unsettling to him that she’s both stifling and the very oxygen he craves at the same time. And it’s even more upsetting to admit that in his time in the dungeon he’d actually missed her. But now that he was looking at her in her bed, bathed in soft diffused moonlight, he can’t lie anymore. Not to himself. She was infuriating at best, but even in the throes of his madness she was compelling. He’d told himself it was the power that swam in her blood, but that too was a lie. Yes, power was something he craved, something he desired, but there was _more _to Rose than just power.

It was in how she looked at him. No one had ever looked at him the way she had before.

Her back is to him, her breath steady and even. He watches her breathe and is vaguely aware that he’s being creepy, but he can’t look away. He’s oddly comforted by the steady sound of her breathing. He feels the tear on his cheek before he realizes he’s crying. When it streams down his face his breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t deserve this… he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve kindness. He doesn’t deserve… anything but misery.

“Why?” he asks her again, knowing she can’t hear him.

With a heavy heart, he retreats toward his room. He stops at the threshold of his room, staring at the front door. Oh, it would be so easy. He could just leave. Rose wouldn’t know for hours. He could be long gone by then. It’s so tempting he finds his feet carrying him toward the door. He turns the deadbolt and the door yawns open. Before him is fresh air. It’s still summer, the weather is cool that evening. The breeze is gentle. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime he feels fresh air on his face and the tears flow freely then.

_It would be so easy,_ the mind stone whispered.

“I can’t,” he hisses, keeping his voice low. If he woke her…

_She won’t be able to catch us. Just go._

“No…” he closes his eyes, clutching his head in his hands. His legs go weak. He’s torn between going and staying. The voice isn’t wrong. It’s so easy to just walk out the door, to vanish into the world, but… he knows he can’t. The logical part of his mind is just as loud. His face, his image, it’s everywhere. If he leaves, he could be free but for how long? He’s lying to himself if he thinks he’ll fare any better out there on his own.

He gasps in a sob, the hardwood floor meeting his legs for the first time as his whole body starts to slump. He can just go. The world is at his fingertips, so why can’t he will himself to leave?

_You’re weak!_

“No…” he whimpers, his head in his hands. “No, stop. Leave me alone.”

_Weak, mewling quim! No wonder you failed. He’ll find you. He can smell your fear. He’ll find you and your Rose. He’ll make you watch…_

“Shut up!” he shouts. “Stop! Leave me alone! Silence!”

_“Loki?”_

_She’ll make a fine addition to His army. Imagine what He can do with the power she possesses. He’ll know what to do with her. He’ll make you kill her. Slowly. Intimately. In every way you know she fears…_

_“Loki…”_

_And then, He’ll wake you just in time to see your good work and when you do, He’ll tear her apart!_

“Loki!”

His eyes snap open and there she is: Rose Tyler. He’s on the floor, the front door to her flat wide open, and he’s right where he fell. He gasps in a ragged breath, willing his eyes to focus on her. “Rose…” he breaths.

“It’s okay,” she says sweetly. She draws him into her arms, and he goes without a fuss. “It’s okay, Loki. I’m here.”

He folds himself into her, his face hiding in the crook of her neck. He gasps in a sob that shakes his whole body. He’s never cried in front of anyone before except his mother. He can’t stop himself anymore, she’s found him with the mask fallen away and he finds he doesn’t want to hide. At least not now. “Rose…” he sobs again, his body leaning heavily into her. He feels her arms wrap around him, fingers tangling in his hair. He can’t remember the last time he’s been _held, _let alone even touched. He just let’s go, snaking her arms around her and crushing her to him. And, oh…. She fits.

“Shhhh,” she whispers. “It’s alright, Loki. I’ve got you now…”


	4. The Intern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> CW: Graphic depiction of violence and very minor character death.

Loki wakes on the floor. For a moment he’s delirious, not remembering where he was the night before, but has his eyes peak open he remembers. The front door is wide open, he’s in the very place where he collapsed the night before and… he’s alone?

_Did I imagine her?_ He wonders, sitting up quickly. He looks about like a wild animal, finding the strength to stand before he must will it. He closes the door and practically runs to the end of the hall and there, in the bright blue light of dawn is Rose—still asleep in her bed.

Even in his madness, she can find him and bring him peace.

***

There’s something terribly ordinary about mornings. For Rose, she hasn’t shared a morning with anyone in some time. She’s surprised to see Loki sitting at the table when she shuffles in through her morning haze. He’s so out of place in her home, too big to be sitting at her kitchen table like a normal man. His hair is combed back, his hands folded in his lap. His eyes are closed, his breathing even. She decides it’s best not to disturb him, so she shuffles past him toward the coffee pot. She never used to drink the stuff but after the bonding her tastes changes. One of them, she can’t tell which there so many different people swimming in her now, seemed to enjoy it.

She’s had the thing on automatic timer since she moved in. The only time it’s turned off is when she’s on a mission. She pours herself a cup, adds the appropriate amount of cream and sugar and turns to take a sip, freezing with the mug to her lips when she sees Loki’s eyes have opened.

There’s a pause, but for how long she can’t tell. They’re just looking at one another but without a purpose.

“Mornin’,” she finally croaks, her voice still thick with sleep. She gives herself permission to drink her coffee then. Loki doesn’t speak at first. His eyes look a bit greener that morning, but she can’t tell if it’s a trick of the light or something else.

“What happened last night?” he asks finally.

“Excuse me?” she replies, blinking.

His head turns to the side for a moment and he ponders. “Did I wake you up?” he asks for clarification.

“…No…” Rose answers slowly. “I showed you your room, then went to mine and that was it. Why? Did you have a bad dream?”

“I don’t dream,” he says, tearing his eyes away from her. He sounds more like the annoyed Loki she’d been expecting.

“Kay…” she responds. “Well, I’m gonna take a shower. D’you want anything to eat?”

“I do not need to eat as often as mortals,” he says with an exhausted tone.

“Course you don’t,” she nods. “Right, then. There are some old clothes in the closet in your room. If they fit, you’re free to use them. Might want to change, we have work today.”

“_We?”_ he hisses.

“Oh yes, Loki,” she nods. “You work for Torchwood now.”

***

“This is humiliating,” Loki sighs as he follows behind her.

“It is not humiliating, you’re over reacting,” Rose disagrees. She leans over her desk at the back of Torchwood Three, The Hub, pursing her lips in thought. She’s studying the latest report from the rift. Nothing too alarming. Some debris blew through the night before, around the same time Thor brought Loki to her house, and one weevil was spotted about an hour ago. Pretty standard for a Wednesday morning report, really.

“These clothes are ridiculous,” Loki huffs, straightening his button-down.

Rose finally looks over her shoulder at him, quirking a brow. She’s surprised how well Jamie’s old clothes fit him. They were about the same height. Though, there was clearly a difference in their styles. Loki has managed to find all the black clothes Jamie owned and has put them on at the same time. Black button-down shirt, black trousers, black dress shoes, black socks…

“You look very handsome,” she says matter-of-factly. “I know you feel strange, but you I don’t think so.”

“Your opinion….” Loki begins.

“I know, I know,” she cuts him off. “My opinion means very little to you. But you’re getting it anyway. Now, settle down. We’ll get you your own clothes later.”

“My own clothes?” he asks with an incredulous tone. “Whose clothes are these then?”

“My late husbands,” she says simply, returning her attention to her paperwork.

Loki goes still. She can see him through the corner of her eyes freeze for a moment. “Jamie,” he says remembering the conversation in Stark Tower. His voice takes on a hint of softness. 

“Yes,” she nods. She glances at him and she can’t tell if he’s pale because that’s just his complexion of if he’s gone paler at the realization that he’s wearing a dead man’s suit. “It’s alright, Loki. If I didn’t want you wearing his clothes, I wouldn’t have offered it. Relax. I mean it, you look very handsome in them.” With that she returns to her report and sits down at her desk, turning the page to start focusing on the weevil.

“Rosie?” Jake’s voice comes over the com.

“Yes, Jakers,” she responds.

“I gots eyes on the weevil!” his delightful Scottish accent chimes.

“Ah!” Rose smiles. “Excellent. I’ll be right out.” She swirls her chair to Loki, leaving the report on her desk. “C’mon, Loki. This is the fun part of the job.” She smiles and shakes off the previous conversation, striding from her office, hearing Loki follow her. “On screen, please.”

Jake’s one step ahead of her, sliding the security footage from his monitor to the main screen in the center of the hub. The underground facility is a massive dome made up of found items and pieced together with new tech as Owen can add it.

“It’s at Llandaff Fields,” Jake Simmonds reports. In this universe, Jake and Rose determined they were each other’s counterparts. In this parallel dimension to the Universe Prime, there was no Rose Tyler, there was a Jake Simmonds. In the Universe Prime, Jake Simmonds never existed.

“What can you tell me about it?” Rose asks, striding to the center of the room.

“Pretty standard weevil, this,” Jake reports. “It’s smaller, possibly a female or an adolescent. It hasn’t come into contact with any humans yet, since it came in so early this morning. It’s heading due west and at this rate, it’ll be in Newport by noon.”

“Quick little fellow,” Rose grins. “Right then! Jake and Ianto, you’re with me. Tosh, I need you on the nav. Keep an eye on our friend and make sure we get there before anyone else. Owen, get the holding cell ready. We’ll need to hold him here until the next rift storm. And Loki?” She’s halfway out the door, Jake and Ianto are already on their way to the van. Rose stops and looks at Loki for a moment, pondering what to do with him. He’s not ready for field work, not that he wouldn’t be useful. But it’s best if he stays where he is. If he’s recognized by anyone it will be trouble for all of them. “Don’t be rude till I come back, okay?”

She thinks she sees him smirk. He’s guarding himself, for sure, but maybe he’s trying. She smiles and turns on her heels, following her team.

***

At Torchwood, Rose is a completely different person. She’s confident, in control. There’s an air of casual about the team that isn’t unlike the Warriors Three. These people are a well-oiled machine. Loki could tell the moment he walked in behind her that they had been working together for some time. He could also tell they were unsure of him but not brave enough to ask. Clearly, Rose was able to work without oversight.

The one she called Owen slinks off, after giving Loki a sizing-up. No words are exchanged, but they will be if this mortal isn’t more careful with the tone of his face.

_Don’t be rude till I get back._ Loki could accept that request. She didn’t tell him not to be anything but what he was, and rude was a side effect of his natural charms.

He smiles a winning grin, folding his hands behind his back and sauntering over to the woman Rose called Tosh. He looks over her shoulder as she interfaces with the navigational software and checks in through the coms to Rose and the field team.

“Rose, do you hear me?” she asks, into her headset. She listens for a moment. “Yes, I have you. Hang on, I’ll put you on speaker…” She pushed a few more buttons and then Rose’s voice pipes through the loudspeakers.

“Ianto, for crying out loud, you drive like an old woman!” Rose’s voice says. Loki smirks.

“You’re live, Rose,” Tosh reports through her headset. “Alright, Ianto, turn left on Lloyd George Ave.”

Loki watches from his place just behind and to the right of Tosh. On the large display in the room there’s a split screen display. A map of Cardiff shows the vans location in real time, the other side of the display is a dash cam from the van itself. Tosh has interfaced with traffic cameras from all over the city and continues to switch between them to track the weevil. It’s still early, but Cardiff is beginning to wake up and they only have a short window to complete this mission before it becomes critical.

“Rose, you’ve got to get there in the next ten minutes, or you’ll have to use the Manipulator to jump. We don’t have a lot of time,” Tosh says.

“Agreed, keep an eye on the traffic, Tosh. If it starts to pick up, I’ll jump. We can’t let this thing get a civilian.”

Loki’s impressed with how casually Rose leads. He’d seen her in combat, but she wasn’t leading a team in New York. She was a cog in the machine then, an asset. Here, she was the boss and he could see why. Tosh is casual but confident as she gives directions, fast tracking them to the location on the map. The weevil, whatever that might be, they are tracking is fast, but Tosh seems to be faster, finding shortcuts through the city that they might miss if they were on their own.

“Rose, we’re running out of time,” Tosh says.

“Right, I’m jumping in three-two-one.” Rose counts down and Loki hears a crackle over the speakers.

He takes another step forward, eyes narrowing on the images on the screen. It’s only a second later and there’s another crackle, followed by Rose’s voice once again.

“I see it!” she reports. “Tosh, I’m going to catch it and zap it back to the Hub. I need you all to be ready. Jake and Ianto, abort. Head back to the Rift and pick up any other weird junk that got tossed out over night.”

“What is this Rift?” Loki asks Tosh.

The woman never looks away from her screens. “It’s a tear in space and time,” she says casually. “It opens up once or twice a day, tosses out weird things from other dimensions and the occasional weevil gets through.”.

“Weevil?” Loki questions.

“Man eating alien,” Tosh explains simply. “We have to get it out of the public before it eats someone.”

“Ah,” Loki nods. “Of course.” He glances up to the screen and now he sees Rose on the same video feeds as the weevil. He doesn’t understand why she must be the one running after it when she could just as easily assign someone on her team to do this sort of grunt work. It’s in this way that she reminds him of Thor, a leader that likes to get her hands dirty. Headstrong, majestic. It’s annoying and fascinating and all he wants is to stop being drawn to her.

***

“I’ve got eyes on the target,” she says into her com. “Engaging now.” With that, she runs at the alien.

Ah, running. She loves it, frankly. She never thought she’d love it, but her time with the Doctor changed a lot about her. The first time he took her hand she felt a tingle, as if something greater were calling her. And he said one word, just one word. _Run._

Running became something she did after she was stranded in this world before there was a dimension canon. After the first week of sulking, she started running. Running harder than ever before. She lost the baby fat around her thighs and belly, she grew stronger and faster. She started training with Jake, she learned how to really fight, how to fire a true gun, she became what the Doctor needed her to be. What this world needed her to be.

All of it led to this moment, in a hour just before the city truly woke up, running at a flesh eating alien without fear. The vortex manipulator around her wrist begins to tingle, ready to jump her and the weevil at any moment. She warns the Tardis seedling that they’d have some extra weight and her Little One responds that she’s ready. The communication is instantaneous, as if two parts of her brain are talking at once.

“I’m closing in,” she reports, picking up speed. If she could run any faster she’d be a streak of color and nothing more. “Jumping in three… two…” she throws herself forward, grabbing the weevil as she tumbles through the air, “one!”

Having bonded mentally with the seedling, there’s no need to push any button. The vortex manipulator just jumps when she tells it to. The crackle of ozone around her and she goes sailing through time and space with her burden thrashing in her arms. When she lands it isn’t on the grass in the park but on the concrete floor of the Hub.

The weevil in her arms is thrashing. Its wails echo off the walls, but Rose can’t let it go in order to cover her ears or it will attack. She’s grabbed it from the back so it’s struggling to get free enough to bite. She can feel it’s jaw gnashing.

But Rose isn’t afraid. She’s long since given up being afraid. She only hangs on tighter, wrapping her legs around it somehow to hold it in place. She inhales deeply and calls up from the depths of herself that inner power, the Bad Wolf. The Time Entity that lives inside her can be called upon at a whim and she needs that energy now more than ever. She feels the calm wash over her and then the strength. When she opened her eyes again, they’re glowing golden orbs.

With ease she rolls the creature to the floor, sitting on the small of its back. It struggled against her but she was stronger with the energy flowing through her. These poor creatures were beyond reason. She’d tried on more than one occasion to make a connection, but it was never fruitful.

“Any minute now would be good,” she says, her voice is like bells. She’s both Rose and Bad Wolf at once, fully in control. Tosh is there quickly, but she’s not strong enough to hold the weevil down or keep it under control. Owen’s next and is quick to sedate the creature. It takes a few moments before the struggle really dies down, but once the weevil is still, Rose relaxes and releases the Time Entity, the glow in her eyes gently fading away. When she stands up, she dusts herself off and helps Tosh back to her feet.

“Not bad for a Wednesday morning, eh?” Rose jokes.

“Pretty standard,” Tosh shrugs, grinning.

Rose turns her back as Owen pulls the creature to its feet. Completely unaware, the weevil finds one ast burst of energy, snarling and throwing itself toward her. Everything happens so fast, Rose can’t make heads or tails of it for years. When asked to recount this moment later, she’ll never know how Loki got across the room so fast. Before she can react to the snarl, Loki’s there. He shoves her out of the way, wraps his arm around the creatures next and yanks. It’s so fast no one has enough time to tell him no.

The weevils neck snaps with a disgusting hallow sound that will haunt Rose for weeks after. She practically gags at the sound. “Bloody hell, Loki!” she says in shock. “What’d you do that for?”

Loki’s panting wildly over the corpse and turns to look at her with wide eyes. He reminds her of the man on the top of Stark Tower in that moment. “I beg your pardon?” he challenges.

“You killed it,” she says softly, looking at the creature.

“It would have killed you,” Loki responds.

“You don’t know that,” she shakes her head, her voice low. No one moves for a moment, all too in shock and frankly saddened by how this ended. It’s way too early in the day to be dealing with a death, even it is a deadly alien creature. “Owen let’s get this poor thing to the morgue. I’ll make a report to HQ. This… isn’t going to go over well.”

“What’ll you tell ‘em, Rosie?” Owen asks.

“The truth.”


End file.
